


Two Breaths Walking

by TheEchoingSoul



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comedy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Human Names Used, Loosely based on Horimiya, M/M, Nikolai likes photography, POV First Person, RoMerica Friendship, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety, Some Humor, Underage Drinking, this all started on a bridge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEchoingSoul/pseuds/TheEchoingSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia knew Nikolai vaguely as Anya's younger brother. They didn't speak to one another in school or interact, they were perfect strangers. That is until one Friday night when a drunken Amelia climbed over the guardrail of the Del Sol Bridge and Nikolai, assuming the worst, tried to stop her. Now they can't seem to get rid of each other. But maybe that's not such a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strangers

 

 

Admittedly, I had never considered what would happen when I climbed over the guardrail of the Del Sol Bridge that Friday night. I just wanted to get away from everything, including myself—I never thought about what it might look like to those passing me by.

Belwick is beautiful, you know, from the bridge. At this time of night it was bathed in coppery fire that embraced the mountains and hills in trails of sepia. Sitting on the hard green steel, looking out over that golden landscape view with the wind in my ears and the serenity—cars this late weren’t frequent—of the isolation was enough to have moved me to tears.

I didn’t have to be anyone other than me—pathetic, drunk me—taking a breath of air from the lies. I hated myself. I hated Glacier. I hated not being _me_. I hated the contradiction of what I wanted.

It’s breathtaking. Bare, tanned legs dangling off a 220 foot drop to death with my toes stretching and wiggling the numbness away; nude heels somewhere behind me. The stars, likely airplanes, shuddering above me are reflected in the waves beneath me like an illusionary field. My hands clutched so tightly around the bar that they’re white from the pressure, but I can still feel the dips and grooves of the names—remnants of life— etched into the chipping paint.

“Death is permanent, you know.” The voice was small, silvery almost in that it was neither noticeably gruff nor especially smooth—I would describe it as moderately pleasant but bordering monotonous. My body reacted before my head had time to catch up, visibly flinching before tensely twisting my back to assess the intruder.

It was a familiar-looking man with a lean and taut build. His complexion was fair, but meshed well with his platinum hair that hung just below his chin. Beneath his bangs were roundish almond eyes like electric andara crystals that were flecked with indigo stars and rimmed in long, black lashes. If it wasn’t for the crease between his shapely eyebrows, I would have thought he was a statue.

It finally dawned on me that he was Anya’s younger brother, Nikolai, if I remembered correctly.

“Yeah, that’s normally how it goes.” The crease relaxed. Still drunk and oblivious to my surroundings, I lifted my left arm to swing my leg back over the guardrail.

I felt a hand on the back of my crop top before the guardrail suddenly disappeared from beneath me. My eyes bulged and my stomach rolled. Panic set in and I screamed and flailed, my legs hitting the railing hard enough to bruise. Before my head could bash against the cement, Nikolai wrapped an arm behind my shoulders and another under my lower back.

My voice was shrill. “The hell was that for? You could have killed me!” His eyes averted briefly while I continued to stare up at him, too shocked to move. It went without saying that my buzz had all but disappeared, leaving a headache that would destroy me later, a lack of motor skills, and a _lovely_ nauseas feeling that was only growing worse.

He stood up from his kneeled position and steadied me. I stumbled back over to the rail, flopping against the bars with a gag. I vomited every morsel of food and alcohol I had consumed that night. I slightly tensed when I felt his presence just behind me, but he only pulled back my sweaty hair. I wasn’t sure if he was just being nice or if he also had the same tagline “Vomit girl dies tumbling off bridge” flashing through his mind—cheesy announcer included—keeping him there.

 “’m sorry,” my voice was a hoarse whisper.

“You should know your limits.” I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and tried to even out my breathing. My body was shaking, my mouth tasted like bile left in a hot car for six hours, and I had to look like a mess. My hair fell back against my nape and just brushed my shoulders when he let go of it.

“Well, if you’re going to do somethin’ ya might as well go all out.” My hand moved up to tuck a few fly away strands back when I noticed the left strap of my black top was torn. I fingered the strip of loose thread, trying to recall when it could have snapped. Was it when I fell? He was staring at the severed strap as well, but tucked his hands back into his pockets. Nikolai didn’t say anything, his eyes shifting to mine in an almost challenge.

What he didn’t know was that, drunk or sober, I was competitive as fuck. “Did you break my strap?”

I noticed his eyes briefly shift to stare over my right shoulder. Guilty. Before I could say as much, Nikolai started to walk away in the direction of Glacier. Snatching my heels off the ground, I wobbled after him and grabbed his arm. “Whoa, there, what’s the hurry?”

The dirty look didn’t thwart me. I didn’t want to be alone and the alcohol still flowing in my veins gave me the confidence to blabber on. “Glacier will be closin’ in an hour or two, and if you don’t have a fake I.D. they won’t serve ya at the bar. That’s okay tho’ ‘cause being drunk isn’t really all that fun by yourself but drinking to blend in is also not fun, but the dancing is. You can just bob along and people will dance with ya—you don’t need to be yourself or really talk.”

“Let go.” My grip on his arm tightened.

“No, you’ll leave.” My so called friends had already left me to walk home by myself, again. The jiggly jell-o feeling in my legs would subside if I sat down for a few minutes, but I didn’t want to sit alone on the bridge anymore. Trying to come up with a topic, I recalled Anya telling me a few times that her younger brother was _extremely_ protective of her and it often made it difficult for her to have any male friends. “How’s Anya? I haven’t talked to her in forever.”

The muscles in his shoulders relaxed a little. His eyes opened a little wider and his voice was distinctly lighter than it was earlier. “Sestra is doing well. She’s passing all her classes with A’s and studies very hard to get into university. Earlier today she asked me if I would take her senior photos for her. I was already planning to ask her since I’ve been planning it for nearly two damn years, but to have her ask me is a dream come true. I mentioned the sunflower field up in Ruby Falls and sestra agreed. She really loves sunflowers.” I herded him toward a bench quietly and when we finally sat down I knew I had him for the moment.

“I think I know the place you’re talking about. Anya and I once skipped class freshman year to go up there…I haven’t really spoken to her much since last summer.” I frowned, recalling how Anya and I had been pretty good rivals and friends. She had been nowhere near my best friend, that spot was already accounted for, but we used to talk and hang out after school. Now, we sometimes see each other in class and in the halls, but that’s it.

“Probably for the better, Anya doesn’t need another bad influence plaguing her.”

“Whoa, harsh, man. Your sister is just as bad an influence as I am.”

He raised a single trimmed brow. “You shouldn’t even bother comparing yourself to my sestra; you’re nothing alike. While you are out here, drunk on cheap booze, sestra is asleep in her bed at home. Only listless women like you get plastered every Friday.”

Being alone didn’t sound so bad at that moment. What the fuck did this asshat know, anyway? My fingers clenched into fists and my shaking wasn’t just from throwing up. “Haha, you got me there. I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet, like I have a few ideas but nothing I really want to commit to yet. Anyway, what’s wrong with loosening up on a Friday with friends after a hellish week of school?”

Nikolai snorted. “Your definition of friends must be warped if you consider Melissa and Carlos your friends. Sadiq, Christian, Feliks, and the two of them always come and go in a car—you walk. They abandoned you at Glacier again tonight, no? Come Monday, most of the school will have seen pictures of all your activities tonight.” He picked a piece of lint off his black jacket. “You may be known as an idiot, but you’re not stupid enough to not realize that they see you as entertainment, right?”

“I know.” He seemed almost surprised by my fast response. His fingers even paused in their lint search. Our eyes met and I nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not stupid, ya know. It’s obvious that I’m not really a part of their group and that they laugh at me behind my back, but it was fun to hang out with them in the beginning. Sadiq invited me along and, at first, it was just a onetime adventure.” I took Nikolai’s silence as my cue to continue. “And then I found out something about myself that I had a hard time coping with. When I drank, it was just for courage and to help with my problem, but then I found out it was easier to be someone else, like an Amelia 2.0 that was an upgraded version of me.”

“It’s probably pathetic, but despite knowing that they aren’t my friends, I’m sorta addicted to how good it feels on the dance floor.” I peeked over at him, nervous that he really thought I was just another dumb blonde. 

His lips slightly opened to let out a sigh. “Go with your actual friends.”

I poked his outer thigh. “Tried. My best friend is in a relationship and wouldn’t go without him, but Antonio works Friday nights. I…don’t really have many other friends….oh wait…no, those two are dating. Most of my friends and I started growing apart after I started hanging out with Melissa and the others.” I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment. I used to be really good friends with Kiku, Toris, Anya, Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert. Understandably, Gilbert and Francis attend college with my brother, Matthew, and we wouldn’t be able to get away with partying without Mattie somehow finding out. I could only imagine how livid he would be if he found out what I really do on Friday nights. 

For reasons I don’t like to talk about, I distanced myself from Arthur and we eventually just stopped talking to each other altogether. Kiku and Anya were more by accident. Kiku still speaks to me at school, but we always seem to miss each other. I prioritized Melissa and the others after the first time I partied with them. It wasn’t intentional, at first, but when we did speak they were always on my case about underage drinking and rumours that they had heard about me. I’d been full of myself and naïve, not wanting to believe that my cool, new friends were just stringing me along. Out of all of them, Toris was the one person that wasn’t correlated with my partying. He used to live five blocks from me up until seventh grade when he moved to the opposite side of the river. We used to send letters to each other, but stopped when we got into the same high school. I always wanted to reach out and talk to him again, but never did.

“Maybe I should stop,” I think aloud. “But they might not like that…”

Another sigh escaped through his lips. “It is obvious that they don’t care about you. Stop fretting over what they think and do what you want. Real friends would want what’s best for you.”

I could feel my eyes involuntarily widen and a smile start at the corners of my mouth. “Like you.”

It wasn’t a question.

 “No, you listen to me, this was a onetime thing that I never want to repeat—don’t you fucking walk away from me!”

I continued walking in the opposite direction, feeling bold enough to walk backwards and cackle. “Nope, we’re friends now, Nikky!”

“How the hell did any of _this_ translate into friendship?” He started stalking after me, his longer strides catching up to my smaller ones.

“You care~” I laughed and poked his chest before getting serious. “Besides, you held my hair for me. Thanks for that.” I pivoted on my heel and spread out my arms and exaggerated my steps like Frankenstein. “I really liked this shirt, ya know.”

Nikolai didn’t argue.


	2. Our Shadows in the Street Lights

 

Nikolai followed behind me in-between the somber glow of the lampposts. The soft _thuds_ of his boots on the sidewalk were barely audible, even without the occasional car _vrooming_ down the street. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and glanced sideways into the street where our shadows, large and silent, stretched their lanky limbs at a slant. From his shadow I knew that his hands were still in his pockets, the ends of his coat flapping in the breeze, and that he was looking out across the street.

I opened my mouth, intent on turning around and breaking the silence, but the words wouldn’t come. Closing my mouth, I followed the shadow’s line of sight and stared out into the distance—tall buildings, a luminous billboard advertisement, more lights. There was nothing especially special about the sight, not like the view from the bridge. It was beautiful and special, particularly around Christmas time when the large tree went up in the square and the city was decorated in Christmas lights.

I had discovered the sight after trying to go back to my father’s house when I was ten.

“Hey, what were you up to so late at night, anyway?” I blurted out, quickly turning around to face him.

When our eyes met his mouth flattened into a frown. I tried to smile. Mosquitos buzzed around the lamppost closest to us.

“Ugly,” he said.

The smile slipped into an ‘o’ as I floundered for an eloquent response. After much deliberation my vocal cords settled on “excuse me?”

And then he did the most infuriating thing ever. He shrugged. _Shrugged_. Oh, Nikolai, two can play at that game.

“Nikky,” he narrowed his eyes at the nickname and I smiled. “Hey Nikky, Niks, Niko, Ni-“

“Annoying,” he said in a grumble.

“One word answers are way more annoying, Stevie Nicks.” I look a few steps closer to him. “It’ll stop if you do.”

He momentarily closed his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth, which then returned to its normal neutral expression. “I was out for a walk.”

“You went for a walk,” I repeated, “At three in the morning.” I didn’t believe it for a second.

“That is what I said, yes.”

“I’m calling bullshit!”

“Had I not crossed the bridge, I would have been home sooner.”

The words hurt more than they should have. If he didn’t want to be there, fine, he didn’t have to be. I could get home just fine by myself—I had done it numerous times before under worse conditions.

“So sorry to be an inconvenience,” I turned and walked away, my pace steadily increasing until I broke out into a sprint.

He was trying to be nice by walking me home, but I didn’t need his pity. I didn’t need to be an inconvenience to anyone else. I don’t want to be. I should have said, “probably, but now you’re stuck with me,” and punctuated it with a laugh. I had imposed my friendship upon him but, here I am, running away from it. Stupid, stupid, stupid Amelia.

My bare feet slapped harder against the pavement. I knew it hurt, but the pain hadn’t caught up to me yet. I could see the familiar road where the sidewalk ended across the street and ran faster, wanting to feel the cool comforting grass instead of hard concrete. I darted across the street without properly looking.

Sharp pain shot through my foot and I tripped from the shock, rolling onto the shoulder of the road. I felt the gravel and rocks bite into my skin as I laid there, tired, just so painfully tired. I covered my face to hide, trying not to break into tears.

I don’t want Nikolai’s pity. I know he doesn’t care about me. I know I’m forcing my friendship on him. But I don’t want to be alone.

And my foot hurts.

The first sob slipped out in a heavy hitched breath, my chest convulsed, and that was the end of my resistance.

The gravel shifted and I felt cold fingers wrap around my wrists before the comforting darkness of my palms was ripped away. I expected a look of annoyance or anger, but I found neither of those in his expression. I sniffled, “go home.”

He was unexpectedly gentle when he pulled me up into a sitting position. I stared at the gravel and wiped at my eyes, refusing to make eye-contact. “I don’t need your pity.”

“You are wrong. Pity is a waste on you.” His voice was softer somehow.

“Whatever,” I said.  My foot throbbed in pain.

I sniffled and wiped the remaining tear residue on my forearm, leaving streaks of black eyeliner, before I got up. White hot stars burst through my foot and I stumbled into Nikolai from the dizziness.

“Fuck,” I breathed. My eyes met his and I would have reveled in the nearly shocked reaction, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but embarrassment at hanging onto him. I quickly pushed away.

Nikolai closed the distance, “there’s glass in the street.”

“Uh, okay?” I dumbly responded.

He sighed at what I believe was my stupidity and indicated to my foot, “You’re bleeding. Let me see it.”

I ignored him and lifted my foot into my hand. And lo and behold, there was a shard of fucking glass sticking out of it. Without thinking, I ripped the shard out and let it fall into the grass with a soft _thud_. I looked back at him and said “it’s nothing to worry about.” right before the wound started gushing blood.

“Oh my God!” Horrified, I look over at Nikolai, who looked as equally terrified, and yelled, “Oh my God!”

He recovered faster and coaxed me into sitting down on the grass. He produced a white cloth from the depths of his pockets and wrapped it around the bloody mess while I applied pressure. After a few minutes the bleeding stopped. He grabbed one of my heels that I had dropped in the street and slipped it on my injured foot to hold the cloth in place.

“Thanks,” I said with a watery smile. “That’s one crisis averted.”

He sat back in the grass across from me.

“You’re not an inconvenience.”

My eyes snapped over to his face. “Wah?”

“You’re not an inconvenience,” he repeated. “You are many things—loud, drunk, nosy,”

“Okay,” I interrupted, prompting him to get to the point.

“But an inconvenience is not one of those things.” He finished.

I could feel the goofy smile split my face. I scooted closer and tapped his leg with my uninjured foot, “you’re not so bad yourself.” _Thank you_ , I resisted adding. He could have just been saying it, but it made me happy anyway.

I smiled into my knee and we lapsed into silence again, but I didn’t mind it this time. Above us were trees and stars and navy sky, the grass was cool under my hot feet, and Nikolai was being decent company. I had nowhere I wanted to be more than right there.

“Will your parents pick you up?” The frown was covered by my knee. I shook my head, no.

“Does your family not worry when you get home this late?” Nikolai continued, but I shrugged and vaguely responded, “Not really.”

Nikolai got to his feet and offered me a hand, “address?”

I didn’t want to go home yet, but I reached up and took his hand anyway, “Starship Lane.”

A delicate brow lifted and I cracked a smile, “It’s…out of this world, right? Come on that was funny!” He rolled his eyes at me before he pulled me up.

I hobbled a few steps, but he cut me off and kneeled down, indicating for me to get on his back. “Are you serious right now? I haven’t had a piggyback ride since I was like ten.” I laughed, but cut myself off when I realized he was still kneeling there. Dear God, he was serious.

“It’ll be faster,” he stated. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind.”

I scoffed, “doubt it man, you’re a marshmallow,” but awkwardly boarded anyway. I clasped by hands around his neck and, in one swift motion, he curled his arms around my thighs and stood up. I may or may not have squeaked at the contact, but whatever man, I was surprised! For a few seconds I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t tell me I was heavy. If he did, please just let me bleed out and die right there.

When we didn’t instantly collapse or combust, I soundlessly sighed in relief. His hands readjusted under my thighs and I thanked Jesus that he couldn’t see my face because _damn_ he had some nice muscles.

Focus, Amelia, _focus_. “You, uh, can take a shortcut through the creek into Sunset Park.”

“No, only a reckless idiot would take that shortcut.” was his sunny response.

I kicked my feet a little and pouted. Sure, the shortcut wasn’t the _safest_ route with the creek being down a small, steep hill and the shortcut itself being an unmarked path, and at the end they would have to by-pass a fence before climbing up another small hill to the road, but it took a lot less time than the traditional routes. “Fine, you’re the one doing the heavy lifting.”

“I’ll manage,” was his response. “Directions?”

“Do I look like Siri? Give me a moment, here,” I said before trying to recall how to get home. “Okay, so do you know where the Walgreens is on Vega Street? It’s not too far from the Panareli Pawn Shop; it’s like fifteen minutes from the park entrance.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Nikolai stated before he started walking. I hummed, “Yeah, the owners are like super nice and they have a son, Anthony, who I babysit every now and again. They sell a lot of cool stuff, like bikes and records and cameras.”

“Do you know what kind?” He interrupted before clarifying, “cameras, I mean.”

I tried to remember if Anthony ever mentioned any specifics, but nothing came to mind. “No, but I can always ask.” My fingers absently tapped against his shoulder. “Are you looking into buying a camera or something?”

“Or something.” I made a mental note to give him the number later if I didn’t call up the pawn shop myself tomorrow.

We reached the Walgreens after an hour and a half. I expected us to go right past it so that Nikolai could deposit me at my door and be done for the night, but he stopped outside the shop.

“Do you need to stop in and get somethin’?” My fingers stopped their tapping. I was answered when he started toward the door. Over the course of tonight, I had learned that Nikolai had a habit of answering questions by just doing what he wanted instead of using his words, especially in these instances.

“Jesus Christ,” I gasped when the fluorescents jammed their whitish-gray rays of death into my poor, drunk eyes. I tried to lessen the death-like feeling by breaking into song under my breath, “I’m blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, runner in the night, blinded by the light.”

I couldn’t see too well for the first few aisles, but I swear I saw Nikolai’s reflection roll its eyes at me in the large mirrors that Walgreens has reflecting the back of the store. I pulled my face over his shoulder to look at him in mock seriousness, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

 Nikolai continued browsing the shelf with his eyes, blandly responding with “Perhaps.”

My jaw dropped, “You totally did, wait, did you just do it again? Stop that, you..you rude—what’s this?” I stared down at the large white pill-bottle he’d handed me and read the red-label: Tylenol.

 “Are you in pain?”

“Are you always this stupid?”

“I was just asking, meanie!” I huffed and turned to look at anything other than the back of his neck, but nothing captured my attention. I knew that particular Walgreens well from numerous trips I’ve made over the years. It probably wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that I knew the store better than the employees did.

“Oi, Nikolai, what are you looking for?” I ended the silent one-sided feud.

“Gauze,” he rounded the corner into the next aisle, which contained cough and flu remedies.

“Oh, that’s two more aisles over on the right under ‘Wound Care’ which is before the ‘Cuts and Scrapes’ section.” I directed, pleased when he immediately aborted our current aisle and followed my instructions, which led us to the proverbial pot of gold or, in this case, a wall of gauzes and band-aides.

Nikolai looked the options over, reached a hand out, hesitated, and relooked it all over again. After the tenth time this happened I reached out and grabbed one, briefly looked it over again, and flashed it at him. “Absorbent, blah, blah, good enough, done,” I gauged his reaction. His eyes wandered back to the wall and lingered there for a moment, “You should have more patience.”

“While watching you compare gauzes is cute and all, I came to a decision a while ago.” I turned the gauze towards him again. “This one is more cost efficient and, while smaller in length than the others, the fabric is thicker so you use less anyway. It’s versatile and can be applied to pretty much anywhere on the body, and it’s waterproof. Bonus, the packaging is cuter than most of the others.”

He took the gauze from me and read through it again before handing it back to me. “Did you know a male kangaroo is called a boomer?”

I died. In the middle of the aisle of Walgreens sometime after five in the goddamn morning, I literally lost my shit. In the mirror I saw the employee on duty start up and look at the mirror to make sure everything was okay before returning to his magazine. My head collapsed into Nikolai’s shoulder as I tried to calm down, but all that did was make me shake more. Admittedly, it really wasn’t all that funny, but just the randomness of the trivia from Nikolai, stoic and silent _Nikolai_ was enough.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so hard.

“N-no, I didn’t,” I stuttered, the laughter still bubbling in my chest. “Where did you learn that from?”

He shrugged, not answering. Worried that I had hurt his feelings I tried to do damage control, “Hey, I wasn’t laughing at you, Nikky. The timing was just so random and I was really surprised, but in a good way.” I absently tapped his shoulder, “you’re pretty fun to hang out with.”

“I collect useless trivia,” he finally said and turned to look at me. “I know the names of all of Paris Hilton’s dogs, including Tinkerbell.”

“Do you like Paris Hilton or something?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, well it’s still pretty cool that you can retain all that information.” I tried before shrugging. “I mean, I have an irrational fear of Marmite.”

He quirked a platinum brow, “you’re afraid of a food spread?”

“I did say it was irrational,” I defended. “Just seeing a bottle gives me the heebie-jeebies and-“ I shivered at the image of what could only be considered Satan’s shit, “I don’t even want to think about it, ugh.”

“I can’t guarantee I won’t use that information for evil.” I slapped his shoulder, “You better not.”

“That might have actually been threatening if you didn’t hit for shit,” his mouth quirked up at the corner. I raised my fist higher, “I was going easy on you that time, punk.”

 “Sure you were,” was the cheeky response and I would have given him a real taste of what my fists could do if he hadn’t started walking. The cheater had thrown me off balance on purpose!

I recognized the cashier as someone we went to school with at Crescent Valley, but I couldn’t remember his name (Porter, according to his nametag) or if we had any classes together. He bagged the items, rang us up, and gave a tired “have a good day” before we exited. I smiled and waved back at him, “Thanks, you too, Porter.”

Outside, the navy sky was starting to fade at the horizon where the sun’s prelude of orange-pink rays pooled. We passed over the cracked and treacherously uneven sidewalk section of Libra Street, passed the turning point onto Starr Avenue where my best friend lived, before reaching Starship Lane.

The houses looked sleepy with their shadows stretching into their dark, grassy lawns. The warm porch-lights and streetlights became one with the blossoming rays streaking the sky in lavender and pale yellow.

“It’s really pretty,” I said aloud. When I looked back at him, his hair had shifted just enough for me to notice a thick, bulky strap curved around the back of his neck. “Hey, what’s this thing around your neck?”

As if the world were suddenly ending, his shoulders tensed and he hissed, “Don’t touch it.” I put both my hands up in mock surrender, “I wasn’t going to touch it, I was just asking.”

“Don’t ever touch it.” He warned and I nodded, not getting what the big deal was. Jesus, I wasn’t even going to touch the damn thing to begin with.

“Again, I wasn’t!”

“If you had, I would have dropped you.”

“Whoa, like how many damn times do I have to repeat myself, I wasn’t going to touch it, Jesus Christ!” I glared at the offending strap. “I don’t even want to know any more if it’s going to get your panties into such a twist.”

I stared down the street and caught sight of my house. It looked cold and sterile. The high porch railing seemed to glow in the pale light, but it still looked like the bars of a prison cell to me. The closer we drew to the large house the more I wanted to pretend that I had made a wrong turn somewhere or lied about where I lived. But I kept my mouth shut and just watched it loom.

Nikolai walked up the wide front steps, heading over to the left where two rocking chairs and a table were placed. I slid into the hard wooden chair, instantly uncomfortable despite the thin blue seat cushion, and it tilted back with a long, slow _crik_. My nose wrinkled in response while I glanced out at the neatly trimmed lawn through the bars.

The chair next to mine neither shrieked nor cried when he sat on the edge of it, busily pulling out the gauze from the Walgreens bag.  In seconds the gauze was free from its packaging and he was holding his hand out, palm up, toward me. It suddenly dawned on me that he had bought it for me.

“I can do it myself.” I stared down at my feet, feeling like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

“Or you could shut up and just let me do it.” Ah, as sunny as ever. My foot was placed on the table, shoe left on the unmarked floor, and Nikolai leaned further off the chair to bandage the cut. I didn’t watch him, but I felt his cold, slender fingers gently prod and tug at my warm skin. I wanted to ask about sterilizing the wound or washing it out with soap and water, but I didn’t.

I made the mistake of glancing over at the window and caught our reflections. We were obtrusive. Nikolai’s hair and skin appeared washed out like a bad watercolor painting, but his coat was the worst. It was too dark against the pearly porch and, combined with his height, made him look like a huge black smudge. It was obvious he didn’t belong, and I hated the stupid porch for it. But if Nikolai was an inky smudge, than I was a smear of dirt.

“Finished,” he said, pulling back.

I moved my bandaged foot to the floor. “Thanks.”

My fingers twirled a strand of amber hair while I tried to come up with something to say. Nikolai placed the Tylenol on the table and stood.

He was going to leave. It made sense; he’d gotten me home like he said he would. Our brief time together was ending, but the thought of us never speaking again filled my throat with small, rough stones. I didn’t want us to go back to being perfect strangers.

“Hey, Nikolai,” He turned toward me. “I’ll see you Monday.”

I nearly wanted to slap myself at how insecure and uncertain I sounded. God, I only hoped he didn’t hear it too. He was still poised on the steps and the stones became thicker in my throat as the seconds marched on.

Finally, Nikolai nodded and took the last step off my porch.

The stones went down easy and I waved. It was easier to say goodbye knowing it wasn’t permanent. He waved back once at me and left.

Long after he’d gone, my mouth still hurt at the corners.


End file.
